With One Final Scream
by Clarounette
Summary: Ragnar/Lagertha/Athelstan. Ragnar and Lagertha think of an interesting way to have their Gods agree with them...


He seemed so innocent and pure. They had to ruin him, to defile him. For their Gods, for their tribe, for their child. For their pleasure. Lagertha licked her lips.

Her miscarriage had been a disaster. And that she could not conceive anymore was unacceptable. Ragnar needed children, lots of them. Or he would seek a new wife to bear his heirs. That too was unacceptable : the shieldmaiden would never leave her position, nor the love of her life.

The tribe had sacrificed nine men at Uppsala, as their deities required. Lagertha had hoped it would bring more sons to Ragnar. But the man doubted it would be enough. They had angered the Gods by accepting a Christian in their family. They needed to do penance for their blasphemy. Only by ruining the monk would they prove their loyalty and their faith.

The truth was, they would not be deterred by a lack of desire. For they had plenty of this.

In the dimly lit hut, Ragnar and Lagertha looked like two lions observing their prey, their messy mane enlightened by the roaring fire in the hearth. The virgin monk, sitting on a pile of furs, was blushing at their complete nakedness.  
« Would you care to join us ? » Ragnar asked, his hands on his wife's hips, kneading her flesh.  
She was looking seductively at the monk. At the prospect of his defilement, her excitement stiffened the tip of her breasts.  
Obviously embarrassed, Athelstan stuttered : « I – I don't... Why... »

As the female of the lot, Lagertha was the first to bounce on poor Athelstan, in for the kill. Her deadly mouth devoured the young monk, teeth gnawing the supple flesh of his full red lips. She stopped only when she tasted copper on her tongue. Blood trickled down Athelstan's chin.

Behind her, Ragnar smiled at the view. Feeling the first flutter of arousal in the pit of his stomach, he walked to the unlikely couple. He bent over Athelstan, under his wife's gaze, and licked the blood before plunging his tongue in the man's mouth. A moan escaped their joined lips, but no one knew whose throat it came from.

While Ragnar kept exploring the monk's face and neck, licking, biting, and kissing, Lagertha undressed Athelstan. She ran her strong hands on his pale flesh, eliciting shivers, and another throaty moan. At this point, the young virgin's reaction was unmistakable. For the bulge between his legs was throbbing at the same rhythm as the heart Lagertha felt pumping under her palm.  
« You should lay down now. » She pushed him on the furs, and attacked him again with hungry lips.

Ragnar knelt down and ravished Athelstan's mouth once again, his wife going down on the monk. Athelstan's skin had gone from pale white to pink, a distinct sign of arousal. It sent one more jolt of desire to Ragnar's manhood, and the man was now fully erect. Visual stimulation wasn't enough anymore. He seized Athelstan's right hand and wrapped the monk's fingers around his length, showing the virgin how it should be done. If the first caress was tentative, Ragnar's groans soon prompted Athelstan to stroke in earnest, the feeling of the hard and warm flesh in his hand making his own cock throb in Lagertha's mouth.

She slid her expert tongue from base to top, where she sucked lightly, before going down again and mouthing his balls. Her attentions overwhelmed the monk's virgin body, bringing him closer to orgasm. Soon his thighs were shaking she felt it and decided to stop. He whined when her mouth left him, desperate. The sound reverberated between Ragnar's lips. He liked it.

But Lagertha felt the first signs of frustration, her entrance clenching around nothing. Her inner thighs were drenched in her own juices. She slipped a curious finger between her labia, her clouded eyes focused on the spectacle of Athelstan and her husband kissing, while the monk was stroking Ragnar furiously. A sexy sight indeed. She shuddered and caressed her clit faster. She needed more though, and soon she sat on Athelstan, screaming in extasy when she guided him inside her.

Sheathed in her, the monk discovered a new pleasure, a new Heaven. Time stopped for him, and he stiffened. His hand tightened around Ragnar's cock. Liquid fire burned in his veins, which were threatening to burst. He closed his eyes, trying to regain his self-control. Lagertha's up and down movements and Ragnar's tongue in his ear weren't helping. His hips started moving by themselves, seeking Lagertha's warmth.

It pleased the shieldmaiden. « Oh, the mouse wants to impale the cat, » she whispered. « Maybe it's time for you to be in charge. »  
She stood up and made a sign toward her husband. He sat Athelstan up in front of him, running his hands and his lips on the monk's back.

Lagertha lay down on the furs and invited Athelstan to join her.  
Ragnar pushed him gently. « Go and lie down on her. She will show you. »  
Athelstan nodded and did as he was told. Lagertha spread her legs and wrapped them around his waist. She took him in her hand and guided him inside her once more. They both groaned at the feeling.  
« What should I do now ? » he asked breathlessly.  
She didn't answered but pushed him away, then back. He understood and started thrusting in her erratically.

Ragnar looked at them, looked at the pale back, the round bottom, moving above his wife. He couldn't say if he was jealous of the monk... or of her. He crawled to them and slipped his hand between Athelstan's thighs, seizing his balls and fondling them. The monk went faster. He was almost there. Ragnar wanted a piece of that. He reached his wife's cunt, coating his index finger with her juices, and plunged it in Athelstan's ass.

The monk stopped moving and turned to Ragnar ? « What... »  
« Don't worry, I'll make it good. » And Ragnar looked for that special spot with his finger. Athelstan's cry told him when he found it. « You see ? Keep going. »  
Athelstan got back to pounding in Lagertha. She was enjoying it, even more now that she knew what was waiting for him.

Ragnar used one more finger, than coated his cock with Lagertha's fluids. He moved behind Athelstan and, when the monk plunged once more in his wife, he buried himself deeply in him. Part pleasure, part pain, Athelstan's scream filled the room. Ragnar waited a bit, then rammed into him again, forcing the monk to go even deeper in Lagertha.

Then began an exotic dance to the rhythm of their moans and sighs. Finally, in harmony, as only years of pratice can bring, Ragnar and Lagertha came, and devoured their prey. Lagertha squeezed Athelstan's right nipple between her teeth while her husband sank his in the monk's shoulder.

At the combined sensation of Ragnar's thick cock filling his ass, Lagertha's cunt clenching around him, and both of them tasting him ferociously, Athelstan shuddered and spent himself with a cry of extasy. He passed out.

Ragnar rolled him away and covered him with a fur. Then he turned to his wife. « Do you think it'll be enough for the Gods ? »  
Lagertha's grinned and said : « If it isn't, we can always try again. »


End file.
